


oh, ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love

by orphan_account



Series: the life and times of fjord samuel morgan [1]
Category: American Revolution RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Gay Caleb Brewster, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Fjord Morgan wrestles with the feelings he has for Caleb Brewster.
Relationships: Caleb Brewster/Original Male Character(s)
Series: the life and times of fjord samuel morgan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584889
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	oh, ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Before you read on, please know that I, the writer, am a trans person, so while I'm not writing out of personal experience, considering this takes place during the American Revolution, this character is definitely influenced by some of my own experiences.

It was a hot summer morning, when the sun was just coming up over the trees, and soldiers lumbered out of their tents like felled logs. The heat of the day welcomed lazy limbs and nasty stink from the men's tents and the horses' shit. It was a calm, relaxed day, and most men were content with sitting around, drinking whatever alcohol they managed to smuggle with them, eat a simple breakfast, chat with their companions, and whistle at the camp followers.

One man was determined to keep himself moving. With careful fingers, Lieutenant Fjord Samuel Morgan scrubbed down his musket, taking care to keep it free of dirt. He sat in front of the nearest fire, his breakfast finished long ago. The chatter of the soldiers around him wasn't something he was worried about, unless they started bothering him. Fortunately, not many people talked to him, besides the quieter ones, though even then they rarely shared much conversation.

There was one man who wouldn't stop pestering him. A certain bearded whaler who seemed intent on making him open up. Caleb Brewster was quite possibly the rowdiest man in camp, and Fjord was certain he wasn't the only one who had that opinion. The local major, Benjamin Tallmadge, seemed to think the same thing, but then again, he also seemed to be friends with Brewster. All in all, Fjord wasn't exactly sure as to what he should be thinking about the man. Nobody seemed to pay much mind to him anyway, so his opinion would've been lost in the wind.

He heard the footsteps of a horse as the man in question came riding through camp. Brewster tipped his hat towards the soldiers he came across, before stopping in front of Major Tallmadge's tent and entering it. Fjord watched him for a few moments, before going back to his work.

Brewster was... Fjord wasn't sure how to describe him.

Brewster was the hottest fire and the coldest ice. He was one of the most determined men Fjord had the opportunity to lay his eyes upon. He was cocky, and confident, and brash in most of his actions, and it seemed like he had no conscious to guide him. He had a certain bravado about him, a glow to his face when he laughed, a sparkle in his eyes when he smiled.

Fjord wasn't sure how to describe the warm, fluttery feeling in his stomach when he laid eyes on Brewster.

"Oi, Morgan!" The call of his name startled him out of his thoughts. A member of his regiment, Private Christopher "Kit" Wilkinson, bounded towards him, taking a seat next to him.

"What'cha thinkin' about? You're up early, as usual, so that's none of my concern." 

Fjord ran a hand through his dark brown hair, only now realizing he had forgotten to pull it up. With a sigh, he dug his fingers into the pocket of his vest, tugging out a blue ribbon. He took a moment to tie up his hair. 

“Nothin’ that should concern you,” the lieutenant replied with a small smile, tilting his head back to finish tying the ribbon. Kit snorted, leaning on his elbow. 

“Whatever you say, pal. Do I see you cleaning your gun _again?_ How did it even get dirty?” Kit asked with a chuckle. 

“Must've dropped it in the middle of the night or somethin’.”

The idle chatter continued. Out of the corner of Fjord’s eye, he saw Brewster exit the major’s tent and make his way back to his horse. Fjord turned his head towards the man, and for a split second, the two of them made eye contact. The corners of Brewster’s eyes crinkled as he grinned towards Fjord, before he dug his heels into the sides of his horse and rode off towards the other side of camp. 

“Are ya with me, Morgan?” Kit asked, tilting his head. 

“Yeah. I’m with you,” Fjord replied, before tearing his eyes away from Brewster’s retreating figure and back towards the fire. 

Fire that burned just as hot as his feelings for the whaler. 


End file.
